Chessboard Revolution
by No.13
Summary: A chance encounter in Diagon Alley and Molly finds her life resting in the hands of Severus Snape. And she's in for a lot of surprises during this one night... happily disregarding HBP
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, but that isn't too bad, is it?

Please enjoy!

* * *

**Chessboard Revolution**

**I**

- One Fateful Day -

* * *

A scream. Shrill, desperate, lost beyond all hope for salvation. 

That was all the warning they got.

There must have been noises, rustling clothes when everyone present in the small shop reached for their wands, or whatever weapons they had hidden beneath the thick layers of winter robes. But Molly Weasley later on swore there had been a moment of absolute silence.

A moment for all those customers to look up and find an expression of terror on each other's faces, realization of the dawn of horror. Long enough for fear to descend.

Then hell was unleashed.

Black robes and white masks were upon them, bringing death and bright green oblivion. The world shattered into pieces, dividing each and everyone's vision into a nightmare of sharp contrasts, blurring shapes – and flashes of fresh red splattering through. A chessboard revolution, players clashing chaotically, yet all with motives, if ulterior, if selfish, if part of grand scheme. Chaos presented itself as the grand ruler of all carefully crafted plans, the finalization of perfect order.

For Molly, the world suddenly was clearly separated into black and white; herself and the enemies. Dimly she was aware of others, also victims of a surprise attack, yet that knowledge held no meaning for the present. In times as those it was everyone for himself.

There was no way to tell if time moved more slowly or faster in the heat of the battle – hexes and curses where flashing through the room, hardly a time to dodge or counter and yet she could already feel exhaustion creeping into her bones, perspiration covering her drawn face and badly shaking hands. Holding her wand steady and upright suddenly was so much more of a task, but it couldn't have been more then a few minutes since the initial scream.

The symphony of terror continued; tables, shelves, glasses braking, cracking open and spilling their contents onto the floor, shuffling steps, jumps, loud thumps indicating another crossing of the Jordan, curses and hexes, incantations, screams, gasps, all blurring together, melting into this formidable impression of truly traumatizing turmoil. Smells blending in; of dust and old parchment, of sweat and blood and smoke – filling the room, filling the nostrils of all present, encouraging bloodlust and mindless, panicked moves.

It wasn't even hell anymore.

* * *

Molly didn't think on what it could have been, it was only much later that she could consider all the fragmented impressions left from those few moments. There was no time for such frivolities, as much as there was no room left in her head to occupy herself with useless activities. All she could do was react and try to cope, to adjust to each new threat and save her own skin. 

As the screams grew louder and the old wooden floor became slowly drenched in red, her back hit a door. Her heart leapt up, clutching frantically on this unexpected escape route. Carefully grasped the handle, pressing it down, weary lest some random death eater might discover her or worse – realise what she was about to do.

This was her only opportunity and she knew she had to quell her instincts and desires, all telling her to run and throw caution into the wind.

With each inch the door behind her gave way her hope grew. Holding her breath, praying silently to each deity inclined to listen she stepped backwards –

"My dear Mrs.Weasley, leaving so soon? The party only just started."

There was no mistaking that rich, cultivated voice, drawing out every word with a precise intonation. Neither could anyone fail to notice silvery blond hair spilling out beneath hood and framing the mask like a cruel parody of a Heiligenschein.

Coldly glittering grey eyes were sparkling with callous merriment and a sleek wand was raised when…

"_Trust me. I'll get you out of this one."_

A voice inside her head was the least of her worries, yet instead of preparing a defence she confusedly sought for the origin. Advanced legimlency – few were capable of it.

"Well, well – we can't just let you go like this, can we now? Perhaps you will be more inclined to stay once the entertainment has begun."

Molly's eyes were drawn to another approaching death eater with billowing robes and recognition seared through her upon looking into the black eyes behind the white porcelain.

"_Drop your wand!"_

"Now, what shall I use first?"

"_Now!"_

"Lucius…"

Her wand cluttered to the floor, distinctively she heard somebody mutter a particular foul sounding curse, but another spell hit her first. Magic roared through her body and her senses dulled and flared with new impressions, everything melting together, the world shifting beneath her feet.

"… I was about to ask if you had indeed encountered Mrs.Weasley here but upon closer …"

Molly meanwhile frantically tried adjusting to her new perspective. Everything was ten times the size it had been previously and her body way somewhat adverse to moving as she was used to.

On the upside, she was safe.

And seeing Lucius Malfoy's stunned face when turning to curse an empty spot of air had been truly rewarding.

Whatever she had been transfigured into, it kept her out of the way of stray hexes – and if her sensed worked correctly the fight was currently abating. On one hand it brought her closer to safety – on the other hand she dreaded the outcome, only slowly coming to realize how close her brush with death had been and how many others hadn't been lucky enough to escape.

Perhaps _escape_ was too strong a word – saved was more like it.

She really owed Snape one.

"… if you hadn't so rudely interrupted …"

Molly managed to move her new body into a decent position, only to see Malfoy dragging Snape by the sleeve of his robe into the adjoining room which she had intended to escape into.

"…you say…"

The fragments of a rather heated argument piqued her curiosity – as well as the voice of reason reminded her to stay close to their spy. He was currently the only one who knew her fate and thus was the only one who could reverse it.

The door slammed shut, cutting off an enraged.

"You! How dare you…"

However the space under the door was just enough to let Molly slide through. A thump immediately made her look up. The scene had her gasping, wishing desperately for a wand or any means of interference.

* * *

Malfoy was yelling, besides himself with rage. Professor Snape had kept his distance, but suddenly and swiftly Malfoy descended upon him, throwing a chair that had been blocking his path across the room with enough force that it shattered, before wrapping his hands around Snape's neck. The professor stumbled backwards, only to find himself backed into the wall, while Malfoy slowly cut off his air supply. 

"It's all your fault!"

It was very much unlike the Lucius Malfoy Molly knew to lose his cool like this, even – if such tales were to be trusted – upon events as such. And there was a seventh sense warning her, whispering that Malfoy had closed the door on purpose – perhaps not only to keep out the enemy but also to keep out other death eaters.

And thanks to the late Sirius Black Molly was fully aware of all the allusions and rumours regarding the --- whatever --- between Snape and Malfoy.

"Damn it all!"

A crack indicated that Malfoy had slammed Snape again into the wall and Molly winced in sympathy. Her suddenly keen nose identified a heavy coppery smell in the air – blood.

"Severus, you know what this means – how could you have been so careless? How could you…"

Under other circumstances Molly would have believed him to be close to tears. There was some strange, unidentified emotion rolling of Malfoy that seemed out of place.

"… if you'd be so kind … as to … lend me an … ear…"

Snape was clawing somewhat helplessly at Malfoy's arms – in terms of strength he was no match for the older Slytherin – never had been and never would be. And Molly was left to wonder why those two wizards had completely forgotten about the existence of their wands.

Malfoy sagged and readjusted his hands to Snape's collar, but keeping him firmly pinned between himself and the wall.

"Thank you very much. Now, as to the matter of Mrs. Weasley I must admit I am somewhat confused as to why you would put the blame on me. After all I distinctively remember recently recounting to our Lord that Dumbledore advises all members of his order to carry emergency portkeys when venturing into the public..."

Lucius' entire posture swelled with barely suppressed fury. Molly shivered, glad to be only an innocent witness, yet truly astonished at Snape's flawless lie. If that was how spying went for him – she shuddered, not wanting to think further upon it.

"A Portkey!" Lucius all but spat, his hands tightening dangerously. There were only inches between him and Snape.

"Yes – or why did you think she just stood there with her wand in one hand, watching you gloat?"

As far as it came to reasoning Snape had won the argument. Yet Molly was far from relieved. There was too much tension in the room and Lucius Malfoy way dangerous, even more so when cornered. She dreaded to think of all the possible outcomes and she was loath to think of how much trouble she was causing.

"Our Lord won't forgive that one easily." Lucius muttered.

There was something in his voice Molly had never associated with him.

"True." ,Snape agreed, using Lucius' distraction to dislodge himself from the wall, "An order member like her might have possessed some important information."

"Stop that and help me think of something. Our Lord won't be lenient towards either of us."

Molly could feel Snape raising an eyebrow, silently challenging the truth of Malfoy's words. Even though, she wasn't convinced that Voldemort really cared if somebody way involved in a screw-up or had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"… but an order member…"

Lucius tensed up, nervousness radiating of him in waves. Had it been anyone else he would have started pacing, yet a sudden insane glow lit up his eyes.

With a movement as casual as if shaking somebody's hand Lucius threw the professor to the ground, an audible crack and a gasp had Molly shivering, and a madly smirking Lucius descended upon the fallen like one dark, deathbringing angel. He ripped the mask off his face, revealing that unblemished face that had so many witches squealing in delight, wearing an expression that was meant to resemble caring amusement but did little to cover the callousness and desperation beneath.

Snape's own mask had been sent flying into one corner of the room and was forgotten when a sharp, piercing pain introduced itself into the forefront of his consciousness, making even the threat of his somewhat deranged housemate pale in comparison. Trapped beneath his back was his right arm, together with his wand and a now broken wrist.

Lucius leaned in, brought his face dangerously close to Snape's own. Without the masks there was no way to hide any facial expression that could give away something – and obviously, Severus Snape was very aware of this fact as he stayed stock-still, simply staring up into Malfoy's eyes.

Their unseen observer could hardly suppress the anxiousness she felt. There was – Molly realized, torn between shock, repulsion and awe – a certain routine to the scene unfolding in front of her. Nothing else could explain the lack of defensiveness on the professor's side; yet she didn't like the implications rising up in the back of her mind.

"_Malfoy's lapdog."_ Black had called Snape. What had seemed like a childish insult at first abruptly gained an entirely unsuspected depth considering what happened in front of her eyes.

The context of everything she had previously observed seemed to shift and this sudden sense of vertigo made her stomach roll. Actually, she did not want to consider what it meant, that Snape was used to Lucius pinning him down.

She almost missed the following whisper, her mind still reeling.

"Our Lord will never know of this."

She would have gasped, had she had the ability. Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater supreme, intending to deceive his lord. It was a point worth contemplating, something that could be used as a strategic advantage for the order – but not at the moment.

"Lucius…"

Snape looked vaguely uncomfortable, but his effort to wriggle himself free appeared to be more a gesture than any real attempt.

"Promise me, Severus. I know you can keep this unfortunate event a secret."

The maniac glint in Lucius eyes had subsided, giving way to his usual piercing glance. That however did not make him any less dangerous and Molly somehow found herself wishing for her wand. Perhaps she stood no chance at defeating Lucius Malfoy in a fair and regular duel – an attack at his back on the other hand could turn the situation in her favour.

And somehow – regardless of what her children had ever told her about their professor, as well as his cold behaviour at order meetings – she wanted to help him. If this was how spying went, his efforts were truly unappreciated.

And …

… perhaps…

… regarding those other … conclusions …

…

It wouldn't do to pronounce her suspicions aloud, she'd face denial from every front. But a word to Dumbledore in private should do nicely.

Even if she had currently now idea what kind of a result she was aiming for.

"Do you truly intend to lie into the Dark Lord's face? Forgive me Lucius, but I don't see how that could be preferable to the truth."

A smile formed on Lucius' face, one that – dare she believe this atrocity – was real, affectionate and caring. Hell, she'd never seen Malfoy smile so fondly at his son.

"Oh no, I'm not suicidal. I'd merely appreciate it if we could … keep from going into detail concerning our failure. We won't escape punishment, certainly, yet if no one was to learn that the escapee was indeed a member of the blasted phoenix order I believe the severity could be drastically lessened. And I think that would be in both our best interests, wouldn't it?"

"If I was to neglect, that I merely happened to pass you by while she made her escape, you would be right on every account."

Snape gave an audible sigh and the smile on Malfoy's face turned into a grin.

"I knew you'd understand."

Disconcerting to see Lucius Malfoy honestly jubilant. Within the last five minutes Molly had witnessed him displaying more emotions than in the entire twenty and some odd years she had known the man. It was odd, she's always thought him … incapable of feelings besides cruelty and smugness.

And she never would have discovered that misconception, if not for today.

She shifted uncomfortably. Her mind was spinning with new discoveries, each of which made her feel queasy.

Every order member took pride in being better informed than the rest of the wizarding world, especially the ministry. They _knew_ what was going on out there.

Or at least they believed to know.

Right now she felt that they hadn't even the slightest idea.

There was more to Snape, more to Malfoy than she would have thought. Looking back, that had been inconsiderate, illogical and plainly foolish. Personal grudges and rumours colouring her worldview. Black and white chess figures were all she had previously seen. The good and the bad – simplified enough for even children to comprehend.

It was easy to fight a war like this.

Forgetting that behind the white masks were persons, individuals with families and feelings. That they were human instead of immobile, dead chess pieces.

And she dreaded to ponder how much more they all had missed and were still missing of the entire picture.

"Severus, promise me."

The scene was eerie to behold, all sharp contrasts, bordering on the metaphysical – a hint of things unspoken, a reminder of things that had been. Nostalgia, and romantic in the gothic sense, sending shivers down the inexperienced observer's spine.

Both men wrapped into the deepest of black, their faces as white as snow; resembling a pair of fallen angels. Beautiful to the eye, but horridly dark and twisted beneath this immaculate surface.

For the first time in her life Molly could grasp what drew people to the Dark Arts. The same mind-blowing fascination which gripped her right now, had her holding her breath in reverent awe.

"I won't reveal your secret, Lucius."

She had heard people say that Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape were considered epitomes of Slytherin spirit. Tradition, money, power, cunning, deceit – her mind was only beginning to decipher the promise of the house that was so casually considered the breeding-place of evil.

"Thank you."

Lucius leaned forward, the professor closed his eyes for a moment – and Molly felt her heart give out as man she'd always believed to be exceptionally callous plant a gentle, chaste kiss on the other's forehead.

The moment broke, masks slipped back into place – both faces were cold and closed once again. Lucius scrambled to his feet and Molly realized, that while she had been completely taken with the display in front of her, the fight on the other side of the door had continued.

There was scrapping against the wooden planks of the floor, ringing, ear-splitting screams and the unmistakable smell of blood heavy in the air. Death Eaters celebrating their victory, no doubt, she thought, full of spite and resentment, hiding behind their masks…

"The Auror's should arrive soon. We'd better leave now, I'd prefer avoiding a brush with them."

Accioing his mask, Malfoy slowly made his way over to the door. Laying one hand on the handle, he turned back.

"Coming?"

Snape slipped his mask back on, once again becoming one of those black and white chess pieces.

"In a minute." ,he responded, gesturing to his limp right hand.

With a nod Malfoy swept out of the room, past Molly who was cowering against the wall in some dark corner.

Snape heaved the sigh of relieve she couldn't in this body before he picked her up.

"I'll send you back to Headquarters as soon as possible… but it may take a while."

Although unable to speak properly, Molly hoped to convey her gratitude and agreement by nodding her head. Snape's lips twitched.

And with a loud crack they were gone.

* * *

Owari ja nai desu - 

Ja mata!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, but that isn't too bad, is it?

Please enjoy!

* * *

**Chessboard Revolution**

**II**

- Into Darkness -

* * *

Even though it was very dark, a strange sense of twilight enshrouded the area, or so Molly noticed upon regaining her bearings. She'd been left on the ground beneath some rather thick bushes, hidden safely in the shadows. 

And upon recognizing the settings she was thankful for the cover, even if she still felt bare.

A circle of white-masked figures stood silently in front of the ruins of an old castle, black cloaks swaying in the breeze. Beyond the ruins, flat land stretched towards a dark horizon, where the sky was lit up in irregular intervals by flashes, signs of an approaching thunderstorm. Even with a bit of wind going, the atmosphere was heavy and oppressed.

Quivering in her hiding place, Molly's eyes involuntarily thought out the tall form reclining on a stone throne, its red eyes even visible over the distance. Pressing her lips together and mumbling a prayer, she looked away, remembering those old rumours about people sensing when they were starred at. If the saying was true, than Voldemort was the first person who was capable of this feat.

And after having escaped Malfoy, Molly had no intention to be caught here. She didn't even want to think about what would happen to her, if she was discovered. Her insides were twisting enough as it was.

There was a series of loud cracks which sent Molly jumping.

About twenty other Death Eaters appeared, clutching several victims. To her utmost horror, she recognized them to be the other customers from the small store in Diagon Alley. Ice cursed through her veins, freezing her brain and tuning out the screams and sobs which assaulted her ears.

Too horrible to be true.

Too much horror for one single night.

Lord Voldemort stood and waved a hand in one grand, majestic gesture. Once again, unperturbed silence settled over the scene.

It had been a spell, Molly discovered with shock, a powerful silencing spell performed Many victims were clawing at their throats, wide-eyed and white-faced, frantic with panic and despair.

Ice enfolded her heart, when she understood, that to them all hope was lost.

"Dear guests of tonight, I bid you welcome and would like to excuse any form of inappropriate behaviour on behalf of my loyal Death Eaters."

The saccharine smile on those pasty-white features was sickening. As were those red rubies, glittering with deadly mirth.

"As to you, my followers, I ask you to have a little patience. Business cometh before pleasure, and tonight we must bow to this role. So please, gather our guests of honour in a circle. We will have other visitors before morning dawns."

Orders were obeyed noiselessly, while tension grew stronger and the distant rumble of thunder louder. Flickering light lit up the sky overhead, revealing thick purple and yellow clouds covering the expanse of nightly sky.

"Step back to your places. We are awaiting a commission from several vampire clans tonight. You…" ,he flashed a toothy smirk at the terrified witches and wizards, "…will be their welcoming gift."

A nervous chuckle cursed through the rows of Death Eaters who were assuming certain positions, all of them which seemed to have been previously determined. Voldemort sat on his throne in the middle, high above all others. Lucius Malfoy, as expected, stood to his right and next to him was his wife, also discernible by masses of curly blond hair escaping from beneath the hood. Molly gasped lightly, when she recognized the figure on Voldemort's left to be professor Snape.

Vampires." ,somebody breathed tersly.

Another voice joined. "The old clans – really…"

"I only ever heard the tales. Could you imagine this, … this to …"

So Molly was not the only one who had twitched upon the mentioning of those dark creatures. Well, there were two kinds of vampires – newly reformed ones, harmless creatures really. Yet in face of this utter respect no one here was talking about the new age vampires.

They were on about the old creatures, dark, rich and living in places hidden away from the world. Observing humanity throughout the centuries, taking great care of the obscuring their existence. So far, that even the wizarding world was only barely aware of this dark presence lurking within twilight zones, watchful and dangerous.

Only Voldemort seemed at ease.

"Behave."

A creepy smile illuminated by a flash overhead.

"And beware."

A thunderclap in the distance. The wind picked up one last time, sent robes fluttering and leaves flying, before dieing down.

"My Lord, when will they arrive?" ,Malfoy asked in a hushed whisper.

The dark entity gave no sign of having heard the question and it was Snape who answered, gravely and sending a shiver down Molly's back.

"They're here."

The next bolt of lightening showed seven black silhouettes approaching silently. Whether they were walking or simply hovering over the ground wasn't discernable. Neither could Molly see any face, only finely woven cloaks, heavily decorated with odd symbols and pendants. Jewellery was sparkling ominously, promising riches beyond imagination and hinting at magical powers long since forgotten.

And even thought professor Binn's lectures on history had always instilled the desire to sleep in her, Molly couldn't help discovering a certain fascination for it right now. There was more, she realized, holding her breath, more to those dark revels than everyone believed.

Perhaps there was a reason that drew undoubtedly brilliant minds to the dark arts. Perhaps it was not sorely blood-lust, an unhealthy desire for power or a wish to uphold prejudices.

Perhaps it was also the fact that knowledge, hidden from the public, rotting away in the ministry's archives, could be uncovered.

Memories of what Dumbledore had told her concerning Tom Riddle resurfaced. A brilliant student, really. One with a bleak past, even for an eleven year old; bitter but determined and thirsting for knowledge. Had he ever had his wish granted?

She could see him asking, being told what he wanted to know was forbidden, as it was considered dark. No word as to explain the why.

Why were certain spells forbidden?

What exactly defined dark?

She swallowed, abruptly ending her train of thought. It was neither a comfortable direction, nor one she would want to head down considering her actual situation.

"Welcome my honoured guests."

Voldemort nodded his head while only one vampire bowed stiffly.

"Lord Voldemort, the honour is entirely on our side. We thank you for your invitation and would like to inquire further about this proposal you have mentioned. But for now, let us begin with the introductions.

As you can see, seven of the thirteen families have come. Those others are not interested in your endeavour and bid you leave them alone in future. You must understand, we have over centuries found that contact with the wizarding world mostly is a hazard and often went not too favourable for all involved, so please do not take offence in their scepticism.

Present are however the head of the Medici clan, the Graf von Frankenstein, Vice-Count Bakersville, the Duke of Cluj-Napoka, Contessa Borgia, Lady Mina and myself, Vladimir Flad."

So all those gothic tales were true.

It was frightening and mesmerizing, stimulating curiosity and fear at the same time. Molly was shivering, yet a part of her wanted to see their faces, wanted to go out there and ask questions, wanted to learn more about those shady figures.

"Thank you, Baron Flad. As for now only I myself will speak with you, the Death Eaters heed my saying without argument. But before we settle down to business, I present you those wizards and witches here as a welcoming present."

A small titter went through the seven figures.

"It is indeed a gracious gift, Lord Voldemort." ,said another vampire, although he seemed to be far from enthusiastic.

Besides him, another person shifted, throwing back a hood and revealing long blond hair that put Narcissa Malfoy's to shame. A dry, devious smile was formed by blood-red lips and eerily glittering eyes sought Voldemort's without fear.

"Even thou those headst your command, I would like to know at least those closest to you. When you have lived as long as I have, you come to find sense in old sayings such as having a look at a person's friends might give you a clue as what to expect."

Molly couldn't help but sense a hidden intent behind those words and Voldemort shifted uneasily.

"Very well, but I will spare you long introductions to everyone. To my right are Lucius Malfoy and his wife, Narcissa – remove your masks."

Both did as ordered and while Lucius held the vampire's scrutiny with only the smallest twitch, Narcissa kept avoiding their gazes.

The vampire lady appeared coldly amused.

"To my left are Severus Snape, Ev…"

"Severus? Oh my, that is a pleasant surprise."

Molly obviously wasn't the only one surprised. Actually, the only one who wasn't was perhaps Snape himself.

"Signora Borgia, it has indeed been a long time."

Lord Voldemort seemed somewhat put out, yet he didn't disrupt the scene – probably because he was just as curious as Molly Weasley, wondering what connection existed between a wizard as Snape and an ancient, infamous vampire.

Contessa Borgia wasn't fazed by the tittering around her. She crossed the distance until she stood directly before the professor, paying no mind to Voldemort himself.

"Oh my, the years simply fly by, if you forgive this unbecoming modern expression. The last time I saw you, you were … nineteen, I believe."

She fixed his eyes with an intensive stare and then said, cryptically.

"Many things have happened since then. We should catch up on them some time."

The blood-red lips spread, revealing razor-sharp white canine teeth. Contessa Borgia stepped forward, placing one hand on the back of Snape's neck and drawing him down, towards her.

"I always wanted…" ,she started in a stage whisper, before her voice dropped too low to be heard by anyone. A fractional widening of Snape's eyes was the only reaction he betrayed.

Not even the thrilling kiss she placed on his neck made him shiver.

The figure beside him however did so and rather thoroughly. Molly wondered how somebody would calmly let a fanged, blood-sucking entity close to his neck, when even the rest of the Death Eaters – regular harbringers of death, destruction and damnation – were frightened.

Voldemort looked as incredulous as possible for somebody who had no real face.

Contessa Borgia turned to him, smiling poisonously sweet. "I bid you pardon my escapade, yet perhaps in some years time you will come to understand. As for now, I will spare you further trouble, let us speak about business."

There was a certain mischievous glint in her eyes that sent everyone present on the edge.

"No need to apologize, feel free to interact with my servants as if they were your own. I am certain they would be glad to obey your wishes."

Lucius Malfoy and Contessa Borgia bristled and in her mind's eye Molly could also see Snape's eyes narrowing.

Vladimir Flad chose the moment to intervene, before coolly perfected politeness could turn into something ugly. "Well then, you spoke of an incredible offer, promising us fresh, living blood legally and in excessive amounts if we join you in your endeavour. We were wondering, what it was, that you exactly were planning to do."

Several other figures were nodding their heads, oozing scepticism.

"My, I thought I had been clear on that subject. My goal is to create a world free of inferior interferences. Were everyone can live as what he truly is, were everyone has his proper place. Wizard, Muggles and Vampires, each and everyone living according to their own rules – not twisted and denied their natural rights by obscure laws made up by incompetent idiots wanting to cover their weaknesses. A truer world, is what I want.

A world, where every being has it's rightful place and nobody can take that one away."

"It sounds… tempting to us. If this world was established, we were able to take blood of whomever we wanted without dreading trouble with the ministry, do I understand correctly?"

Two vampires in the back started whispering.

Voldemort nodded. "That is my offer. Will you help me?"

Contessa Borgia coolly raised one eyebrow and Baron Flad responded: "What kind of help is it that you need? And how exactly do you intent to realize this vision?"

"We must eliminate all fools who continue to preach false teachings, who refuse to see the natural order of things and insist on twisting them to their own ends. We must gather the wizarding world behind our project, we need them to agree and find back to their original culture. To discern those modern muggle ways for their falsity and pretentiousness, for their sheer idiocy. It is a lot we have to do, and there are many who have amassed recognition and wealth through the years for their poisonous words – those must fall first.

Show your allegiance, show to those the importance of tradition.

Show to them, the only way to be free is to accept their nature."

Thunder rumbled. Closer this time, the storm was only mere seconds away. Molly was trembling on the inside, unable to forget Voldemort's words. The vampires had every reason to join, she couldn't think of an argument to the contrary.

Somebody leaned forward, whispered a word to Flad who looked to Contessa Borgia. She nodded subtly, putting up her hood.

And all of sudden the polite Baron Flad changed. Raised his head, drew himself up to his full height – and jewels started glowing ominously within the darkness. Unknown symbols of power showed, white fangs were glittering underneath several hoods.

This was beyond even Voldemort.

"Lord Voldemort – you speak of freedom yet keep those whom you made the promise to as servants. Are we to suffer the same fate? Are we to accept, only to bow our heads under your order, wait on your every whim only for the sake of a promise?"

A flash tore through the ruin, and suddenly those seven robed figures seemed all the more dangerous.

"A promise that can not be fulfilled. You speak of separating spezies, but ask us, Dementors and Giants to join under your reign? What is that, if not mixing our cultural businesses? And while flesh blood is a tempting surprise, we have taken it until nowadays, regardless of your ministrie's attempts of interference. Perhaps it did never occur to your lordship, but younger members of our families are growing up with muggle ways and while tradition shan't get lost, we can not close our eyes and deny the future. We can not try and escape back into a past that never existed. Change is a challenge, perhaps the last one the world can offer to us immortals.

And you want to liberate us from that?"

There was a layer to darkness, that no one had told Molly existed.

A reasonability nobody dared to even consider.

Scary and enthralling.

Voldemort sucked in a deep breath, ugly red spots appearing on his face. The wind suddenly and swiftly started again, howling around the ruins and rustling leaves.

"You promise us eternal damnation or death, Lord Voldemort, and neither is what we desire. We refuse."

Molly held her breath, half expecting a fight to ensue. Malfoy was gripping his wand tightly beneath his robe, several Death Eaters had already drawn theirs.

"And as for consequences…" ,somebody else spoke up, the other female in the group. She stepped into the circle where the frightened victims were gathered and held spellbound, inspecting one or two until she came to stop in front of a small girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Oh my god, there are children." ,Molly thought. She hadn't noticed any during the fight, but … who could torture and kill children and live with himself afterwards? Or just look on? For one moment she saw Ginny instead of the dark haired girl, teary eyed and ghostly pale, shivering silently under the vampires caress.

She didn't know what to think about Snape anymore, only, that there were a lot of questions she wanted answered.

"Look into my eyes, little one." ,the vampire purred, "Do not be afraid."

The child did so.

"Do you remember who hurt you?" ,she asked, gently touching a scratch on the girl's cheek.

Terrified, the small one nodded.

The vampire crouched down, smiling. "Don't ever forget their faces. I will give you the means to pay them back their due."

The child's eyes widened dramatically, several Death Eaters gasped and Voldemort looked furious.

Lightening tore down, somebody was laughing loudly and then they were gone. The vampires, as well as their "presents".

If that had happened to her – Molly dreaded thinking of it. First delivered to Voldemort, than, perhaps saved from death and torture, only to end in the hands of notorious vampires. Her insides felt cold, deadened.

Rationally, she knew that it was shock, numbing her mind and dimming the sensations. She needed to go home, lie down with a cup of warm tea and her family.

But home had never been so far away.

The storm broke.

Howling wind, cold, hard raindrops drenching scorched grounds, trees bending abnormally, lightening and thunder as if there was no tomorrow. Death Eaters were huddling together, clearly uncomfortable. Even the collected Lucius Malfoy was several shades paler than normal; his wife was shivering, hunched her shoulder for protection from the icy water.

Lord Voldemort was too enraged to notice.

"This is unacceptable." ,the red-eyed creature hissed, seething with barely repressed fury, "Nobody rejects my offer. They join or die!"

Somebody else would suffer tonight, Molly realized. A cold gust of wind had her retreating further underneath the small bit of protection the bush provided. Somebody whispered a rain-repelling spell.

"What was that?" ,Voldemort turned like a snake, and advanced fast and merciless, "Did I allow spell-casting? Did I ask you to act on your own? The quivering I see is disgusting enough, yet disobedience can not go unpunished. Crucio!"

One fell down screaming, unarticulated and unrestrained in a voice much, much too young.

"Crucio ultima!"

The scream pitched higher, more desperate, reaching heart and core. Beyond saving now, beyond sanity and beyond hope.

Yet so very young.

And already too lost.

Everyone was watching in silence, nobody dared to move. Neither Malfoy nor Snape were disturbed by the display of cruelty.

Voldemort lifted his wand, hissed a word in a strange language that drew a shudder from those nearest to him. Thunder clapped, and in the eerie lightening blood splattered down on the ground.

There were no more screams, only weak twitches.

And a malicious smile on Voldemort's face.

"That should suffice. Let this be an example to all of you, you will not act without my permission. Heed this lesson or be the next to suffer!

You know what you have to do! Leave! Only the inner circle shall rejoin me!"

And with a loud crack he apparated away.

In a matter of minutes almost everyone was gone, only a few remained. As did the one on the ground, still moving weakly.

Molly had not even heard anyone approaching, but all of a sudden Snape picked her up and heaved a deep sigh. His robe was drenched, cold and her place beneath the bush had seemed relatively warm in comparison to the robe's pocket. Without saying anything he strode over to Voldemort's last victim, frowned and shook his head.

The ground was slowly turning red and those eyes were glossy, starring sightlessly up into the storm. But the chest was still rising and falling ever so slowly.

Few moments later Snape held a strange wand in his left hand.

"Avada Kedavra."

* * *

Jiantian zher shi dou kewen. 

Zaijian!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, but that isn't too bad, is it?

Please enjoy!

* * *

**Chessboard Revolution**

**III**

- Promise me -

* * *

Thunder and rain were reduced to a distant rumble, where ever they were now. It was dry, warm and lavishly decorated. Quite dark, too.

The room was huge, even if somewhat odd. Several cupboards filled to the brim with ancient books stood on the left, a fire was crackeling merrily nearby, yet there was still a gloomy atmosphere, betraying that those room previously served as a dungeon. Chains on the ceiling bore proof of that. As did brown-reddish stains on the bare floor, where no thick plush carpets were covering it.

Once again, Voldemort was sitting on a throne, which actually looked more like an oversized plush chair from the last century. Molly's sight was somewhat obscured by the fact, that she was peering out of a pocket of Snape's robe.

The professor was awfully tense, even though she could practically sense his exhaustion. Teaching and playing double agent were taking a visible toll on the man, as did all the spells. An Unforgiveable … it had mattered precariously little to Snape, or so it seemed to Molly. Then again, if he had to watch torture as he had, silently and unmoved, he couldn't afford a conscience, or qualms about the Dark Arts.

Dumbledore always worriedly pointed out the thin line his spy was walking. Molly had the impression it was a path heading straight to hell.

Unforgiveables, torture, vampires – and she'd almost forgotten about the wand- and soundless transfiguration charm he'd cast on her. Those were considered borderline dark and took a great deal of strength… oh, and then there had been Lucius Malfoy, the broken wrist – which probably still wasn't healed…

Truly, the drying charm was cast left-handed, while the right hand stayed safely hidden away beneath oversized black sleeves.

"… so you're saying that one escaped?"

Malfoy was kneeling in front of Lord Voldemort, head bowed obediently.

"Unfortunately, yes. On the other hand however, the notification of the aurors had successfully been delayed, so that…"

"Oh, I am well aware of that. Yes, tonight's raid was a success. But – crucio – and now listen closely to me – how dare you spoil the result? How is it, that a mere witch manages to slip from the grasp of a wizard of your capabilities?"

Malfoy – to his credit – had not made a sound under the spell, yet his voice was trembling, as were his hands.

"M-my Lord, forgive me, I was … momentarily distracted … by speaking with … Severus."

An eyebrow rose. "So both of you – a disgrace, really. Crucio!"

Malfoy jerked and only barely remained kneeling. Sweat was pouring down his bloodless face.

"Severus, come hither."

Molly sensed his nervousness, even if outwardly it was invisible. Severus Snape assumed a kneeling position beside his childhood friend, although somewhat less deferent.

"Does Lucius speak true?"

A grimace. "I deeply regret saying that he does."

"What subject had you both so distracted?" Voldemort leaned forward, starring pointedly into Snape's eyes.

Molly held her breath. She could feel the air bristling, certainly legimilency was being employed, or god-knows what kind of dark spells Voldemort was capable of casting. Lucius whimpered quietly, trying to draw himself up.

"We were arguing about targeting members of Dumbledore's order."

"Smooth." ,thought Molly, impressed. And Malfoy send Snape a rather appreciative glance, that Voldemort luckily missed.

"Understandable, yet order must be. Crucio!"

Snape twitched and Molly felt his heart beat speed up. Dark magic danced around her senses, and for several moments she was afraid the curse would be transmitted onto her. Even if she wasn't harmed, she was awfully glad when Voldemort finally lifted the curse after what had seemed like a small eternity.

"Say, Severus, since you already mentioned the subject; are there any news pertaining this blasted bond of bird-lovers?"

Both, Malfoy and Snape, laughed rather shakily, while Lord Voldemort obviously was content with his literary achievement.

"It is, unfortunately, as you have expected. Dumbledore himself is the secret-keeper."

"It has been confirmed?"

"Yes."

Voldemort looked, as if he had bitten into an especially sour lemon and grimaced. The night was not proceeding to his likening, first the vampire's rejection and now bad news on top of it.

"And you are still unable to convince the old fool to trust you with this secret. Crucio!"

When the spell was lifted, Snape was swaying dangerously.

"Anything else of Hogwarts?"

"Nothing of importance, my lord."

"Very well, back to you Lucius, if you have regained capacity of speech."

Snape heaved a quiet sigh when Voldemort turned away, yet didn't dare to relax.

"There is something you must do. You will have at least two month, perhaps even more, but when the time is up, everything must be ready without fail. There will be no place for failures or mistakes here – you know what fate awaits you."

Breathlessly and white-faced Lucius Malfoy nodded.

"When time comes to reveal ourselves to the world, we must assume control through all means. That includes the ministry. Our plans will not come into fruition if we can not convince the masses or achieve administrational power.

Install people wherever you want, kill whomever poses an obstacle – the moment I rise Fudge must be given notice and someone of my faithful followers shall take his place. If you must, take the post yourself – I don't care who it is, as long as he will obey."

Molly shivered. She could see Malfoy biting his tongue, silencing protests. Even she knew, that Voldemort was asking for something more or less impossible. The ministry couldn't so simply be … overtaken.

"Yes my lord." ,was the less then steady reply.

So here it was – proud and mighty Lucius Malfoy signing his own death warrant.

Sad, ironic, idiotic, useless, foolish, disgusting, horrible, comprehensible, awfully irresponsible, honourable, reckless – and whatever else. There were hundred threads storming through Molly's mind, but she couldn't find the energy to pursue a single of them. Beginning to tire of the strenuous evening, eyelids drooping and attention fading away from the present.

What were her children doing now?

They certainly had noticed her missing – were they worried, did all of them know, did …

Too many thoughts, too many different ideas. Faces sliding through, her vision continued to darken. Like the sound of the storm previously, noises dimmed. Somebody was screaming, curses – perhaps an uproar …

…yet so distant …

… far away…

… beyond her interest

Molly Weasley closed her eyes and welcomed oblivion.

* * *

Consciousness is fickle, if it pleases. Or maybe reality isn't all it is made out to be and perhaps dreams are more true than this blurry world, where perception determines everyone and everything. Perchance all depends on the point of view taken in correlation to a situation and truth is one fundamental lie.

The blurry realm of the in-between currently occupied by Molly Weasely offers a thousand layers between truth and lie, white and black and even more possible paradoxical combinations of those.

"Severus…"

"What is it?"

"I know, demanding two promises of you in the course of one single night is outrageous."

A resigned sigh. "Now, if you're quite finished by displaying your incredible sharp wit by stating the obvious, please proceed the subject."

Dry laughter. "As if you are any better. Still hiding behind scathing words, I see."

"But that's not what you wanted to speak about."

"True, true. You know me too well, you know that? Not even…"

He faltered.

"Well – you heard about my assignment…"

Grave silence indicated a mutual understanding of things better left unspoken.

"What would you have me promise?"

Evasive, distracted and distraught – not at all comparable to the regular, confidence-oozing Malfoy.

"Severus, I know, you and… The task…"

"Lucius, do me a favour and stop wasting both our time and blood and just wrap it up."

"Yes…. Sorry."

Rustling clothes. Somebody taking a deep breath, steeling himself.

"Severus, we both are aware of the fact, that our lord becomes more and more delusional and obsessed as time passes. Actually, I doubt we will achieve a single of the goals we set out for under his leadership."

A short pause.

"I doubt I will survive the outcome. Yes, I know chances are odd for all of us. But you have Dumbledore's trust – and I don't doubt you'll be able to convince the man a second time, if push comes to shove."

"Where are you heading, Lucius?" Emotionless, tight – a voice formed not to reveal anything.

A wry smile. "I had hoped for a little more time. To see Draco grow up and all such foolish nonsensical things – recently I noticed, I'm somewhat fond of those notions. Irony of fate, I suppose… the moment I am supposed to give up all I find that I'm quite unwilling to."

"Spare me your contemplations at least until we've reached other surroundings."

"Well – only chance will help me overthrow the ministry when our lord asks me to. I'm not very fond of trusting fortune, but there's little choice here. If…

"If I happen to be killed in the process…

"Promise me, you will take care of Narcissa and Draco in my place."

"Lucius…"

A hand lifted to silence the protest.

"I am perfectly aware of the little affair my wife's been having with my best friend. And no, I don't mind. Don't ask me why, lately I fear I've become unable to explain a lot of my notions. Perhaps it's better this way."

Understanding dawned; a horrible, crawling sensation that made hairs rise and hearts stop. A sensation as clear as glass and cold as ice – sudden comprehension of something she never wanted to know, never wanted to see – because she could relate.

Because this was far from evil, far from cruel.

Because another chess piece had just ripped his mask into shreds, revealed living and feeling colour beneath the black and white cover.

"If I die, or something else befalls me – they will first-in-line targets. For both sides. Yet … you, with your precarious-precocious position – you could protect them. They'd be more than happy. Draco said he'd have left Hogwarts long ago if you hadn't encouraged him to face the prejudice."

Clammy, cold digits reaching for a warm heart that had always prided itself for being open to each and every one. Perhaps the proclaimed tolerance hadn't been as unconditional as they'd all deluded themselves to think.

"Marry Narcissa if the situation allows it. Take her and go into hiding or leave the country. I still possess one or two residences the Dark Lord knows nothing about. I don't care what you do, as long as those who I hold dear are safe and happy."

It had been so much easier to hate a death eater. Why had there to be a human behind that cold mask?

"And, my friend, that includes you."

* * *

C'esttout pour aujourd'hui…

A bientot!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, but that isn't too bad, is it?

Please enjoy!

* * *

**Chessboard Revolution**

**IV**

- Home again -

* * *

First shades of light pearly blue were becoming visible on the eastern sky, when they finally reached Hogwart's gates. Never had Molly been more relieved to see the broad, imposing building.

At least this night of horrors finally reached an end, even if she still felt as if she'd gotten stuck somewhere along the way. So many, many things to ponder, to reevaluate – but first came her family who had to be out of their minds with worry by now.

Second on her list was sleeping.

Long and deep and preferably dreamless.

Heaving a sigh of relieve, Severus Snape began the last arduous track from the gates to the castle, concentrating completely on remaining upright. He knew that should he stumble and fall he wouldn't be getting up on his own.

The injuries weren't too bad, he had sustained worse on other occasions, yet they weren't harmless either and it would be best for all involved if he'd take care of them soon. Preferably, before Dumbledore or Poppy could fuss over them.

He couldn't afford spending time in the infirmary for recuperating, there were several things to take care of. A plan of action concerning the Malfoys – no matter what Lucius and Narcissa were telling him, he'd never trusted them entirely. They were friends, certainly. But friendship in terms of Slytherin was an elusive, intricate phenomenon.

Voldemort's latest demand was also there and since the sun was already rising, time was running short. By sunset today the potion had to be finished and presentable – regardless of the fact, that he had classes to teach in the meantime.

But right now he could soak in the pre-dawn silence enshrouding Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest. Forget about a throbbing head, broken wrist and other countless injuries, the Malfoys, the Dark Lord's lunatic schemes, the Order and everything else altogether.

Half-way up the track, just past the lake, his knees gave out.

The resulting thud also shook Molly out of her stupor and chasing away all pleasant thoughts concerning bird songs and her family. Worry seized her, demanded actions, none of which she could perform. She couldn't even call for help.

The professor wasn't moving. And she was completely helpless; damned to watch how his breathing became more and more shallow and irregular.

He hadn't been hurt that badly, had he?

Molly's memories were to blurry and – she had to admit – filled with too many gaps, phases of inattentiveness. There was no way to tell, what else could have happened within one night.

Only that it was worse than she had assumed.

Her worries increased, when he all of a sudden started coughing violently, a dry, hacking, chest rattling sound. But even while he was gasping for air, he drew himself up on his knees until he could breath again, heavy, but still Molly felt relieved. One hand came away bloodstained, making her resolved to find out what was wrong with the professor as soon as she was restored to her original state.

What obviously wouldn't be long, seeing as Rubeus Hagrid was approaching fast, his thunderous steps shaking the ground.

"Professor!" ,he yelled, crouching down besides Snape, "Are ye all right?"

The reply was one scathing glare, that never penetrated the Half-Giants skin.

"Ol' Dumbledore was sick with worry. Told me to keep watch, ye know. 'was some Order business, that had all upset – kept thinking you could help them out, ye see."

Snape nodded silently, concentrated on regaining his balance and standing up without betraying his dizziness. He still couldn't avoid swaying on his feet, but decided to ignore it. Hagrid took the clue and said nothing.

"There is indeed a matter that requires the Headmaster's attention at once." ,said Snape and Molly heaved a sigh. All of a sudden she felt inexplicably tired and worn out, only wanting to sleep – when she was certain, there were a lot of questions that had to be answered tonight.

Her family – a prickling sensation within her, something warming her up from the inside. Only a few moments until she could hug them all again, just a couple more minutes until this night's horror would come to a final end.

She'd be home.

Had she been in human shape, the familiar warm walls of Hogwarts would have brought tears to her eyes; she'd be running towards the Headmaster's office. They were going to slow, but that couldn't be helped. Snape's breathing was laboured and he stumbled every once in a while.

* * *

And then finally the door opened and they were moving up on the spiralling staircase and there was Dumbledore approaching and everybody was talking at once. And then she saw the others, Remus and Arthur, Shacklebolt and Tonks and Charlie and the twins, all looking pale and drawn – and she felt simply overwhelmed.

Molly didn't even notice how a few words were spoken – and all of a sudden she stood in the middle of Dumbledore's Office, human once again.

For one moment there was silence, then the room exploded into cheers. Arthur had tears in his eyes, was holding her as if he never wanted to let go, Lupin kept dabbing at his with a handkerchief, while Tonks had spontaneously thrown her arms around Shacklebolt (who was slowly turning a nice shade of blue).

It took her awhile before she could make out what everybody was saying – her mind was still reeling, bathing in the sensations within. The relief, the… happiness, the feeling of a burden that had all of a sudden dissolved – it was too much to comprehend.

Against all odds she'd survived.

"We've been so frightened. When we hear about the attack … and Arthur had said…"

"Don't you ever scare me like this again! Do you hear me? Never, never again!"

"We knew they couldn't take you down." ,she heard one of the twins say over the noise and couldn't help but chuckle. Trust those two to remain optimistic.

"We'll go and tell Ron and Ginny. They'll be here in a matter of seconds!"

The poor dears must have been sick with worry, Molly couldn't help but thinking. And once again, she began to grasp, just how lucky she had been this night. How close the encounter had been, how…

"… we were all fearing the worst, when we heard there were no survivors and you'd been seen entering but never coming out…"

She saw those other faces, scared, pale and desperate. Young and old alike, women and men – none had ever left the place alive.

A simple shopping trip turned deadly – it were cruel times indeed, when people were whisked away so suddenly. Molly felt tears in her own eyes. Truly, if it hadn't been for the Professor she herself would be dead or worse…

The vampires…

She closed her eyes and swallowed, while letting herself being led over to a huge, comfortable armchair. Somebody pressed a teacup into her stiff hands and she gratefully accepted. When she opened her eyes again, Dumbledore was regarding her with something akin to worry, but the sparkle in his eyes remained.

"If you feel up to it – would you mind sharing with us, what happened?"

* * *

"So Snape saved you?", Moody asked, completely bewildered. People were starring at her, faces scrunched up in mixed states of astonishment and confusion as if nobody had expected this to happened. Only Dumbledore smiled – but an ill feeling within Molly's stomach remained.

She herself had never liked the man, but seeing the disbelieving looks of her colleagues she couldn't help but wonder if his disdain of them wasn't justified somewhere. Perhaps there was a reason to his bitterness besides the tales of one old schoolboy grudge.

And then – she closed her eyes, remembering. An attractive vampire, Voldemort's and Malfoy's trust; all that power beneath the tip of his fingers – and the man chose fighting for a cause that didn't offer himself anything. Declined power and immortality for people who were openly hostile, accused him of crimes and…

Horrified, she stopped her train of thought. She herself had felt the attraction of the dark and the mysterious, promising freedom and power beyond imagination.

A shudder wrecked her frame and she shook her head. Looking Moody directly into the eye she said: "He did. And why isn't he here?"

Her sons were blinking at her strangely, wondering if she had perhaps been hit on the head – most present were glad to be out of Snape's presence after all. Alastor even appeared astonished by her question – the order members could be one ungrateful bunch of people, Molly realized.

Tonks was shuffling her feet and Remus, visible ill at ease, declared he was going to fetch the Professor.

"More like brave his temper…", somebody from the back of the room muttered and earned a few barely suppressed chuckles.

Indeed, when Remus re-entered the kitchen following on his heels was a very disgruntled looking Snape, levelling everybody present with one scathing glare – some even took a step backwards or were all of a sudden quite concerned about the pattern of the floor tiles.

Pacing to the other side of the room, whirling around in a flourish of billowing robes and eyeing the small party suspiciously, Snape asked:

"What is it that you want?"

There were some sharp words lurking on the tip of his tongue, only waiting for the right moment to be pronounced, but Dumbledore intervened before verbal bloodshed could begin.

"Why, we only thought you'd like to say something about tonight's events…"

Said the man with sparkling eyes, and was rewarded with one prolonged glare, before the exasperation settled on Snape's features.

He was exhausted, Molly noted, more so than herself. Well, he'd additional duties with teaching and whatever else he was doing – potions research, if she remembered correctly. All that made for little sleep or even leisure time and she couldn't help but frown.

"What exactly do you want to know?", Snape asked and the group lapsed into embarrassed silence. Molly had told quite a detailed tail, but…

"Those vampires."

Trust Moody to remember all the unanswered questions. All of a sudden, everybody was interested, even Dumbledore watched curiously.

"Mrs. Weasley said they knew you. I'd like to know how."

Snape rolled his eyes, fixing Moody with one particularly sharp glare.

"I fail to see where that concerns you, the ministry or anybody else present – but for the sake of your satisfying that unhealthy obsession with my private life of yours; Miss Borgia is a very, very distant relation…"

And very, very quietly Fred turned to George, stage whispering: "I've always said it."

Molly couldn't deny that it was quite a fascinating subject; but perhaps now was not the right moment to approach it. Snape looked a hair's breath away from losing his temper, fingers clutching his wand tightly beneath the folds of his robes.

Dumbledore managed to prevent Alastor Moody from asking further questions via one subtle comment that had the two men involved in a heated discussing at once. Tonks shot shy glances into Snape's direction, but kept whispering in low, exited tones to Kingsley beside her – none of them possessed the courage to approach the professor directly. She needn't worry about her children – they were more concerned about creating the strangest rumours from a grain of truth. Currently their discussion revolved around the topic if their professor also spent his nights hanging upside down…

All those antics brought a smile to her lips, made her feel warm and at home, yet nothing managed to completely dispel the cold horror of the gone night. Terrified curiosity and awed fascination remained. Voldemort, Vampires, the Dark Arts – there was more to each of them, more than she had imagined, more than anyone in this room considered possible.

This wasn't simply a black against white battle within some dualistic world; that was only the simplified version the ministry told and that children believed. No, for her, the chess pieces had started a revolution, showing shades of grey beneath their white and black cloaks.

Tonight had opened her eyes; left her with many questions she wanted to ask.

But when Molly turned around once more, she found that the professor had already left.

**ENDE**

* * *

Yep, and that's all.

Arrividerci!


End file.
